


Hold Out Your Hand

by Ailette



Category: Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: Imported, Junior era, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-10
Updated: 2011-08-10
Packaged: 2018-06-05 06:33:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6693307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailette/pseuds/Ailette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Training together with his new group leaves Miyata exhausted. Not exhausted enough to leave an almost crying Tamamori behind, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold Out Your Hand

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Written for a prompt at the kisumai_stuff prompt archive and set at their first day as Kis-My-Ft2. I'm playing a bit fast and loose with accurate happenings (example: Iida doesn't even get a mention >.>). I guess this is actually the first proper Kisumai fic I'm posting? So it's good to post it today.  
> (Originally posted at http://ailette.livejournal.com/68272.html)

For the most part, Miyata feels like just getting home, burying himself under his bedcovers and not getting out from under there for at least a month. He’s exhausted, has been yelled at almost constantly for the last four hours, is sweating through his freshly put on normal clothes at an alarming rate and absolutely _everything_ hurts. He’s not even sure how he’s standing upright at the moment, even holding onto his backpack and new roller skates (too new, as the blisters on his feet can attest to) tightly.    


So, a very stern voice inside his head tells him, he should really go home and rest right now.   


He should not be hesitating and watching Tamamori as the younger boy stumbles over his own two feet in his attempt to heave himself of the bench. Tamamori is old enough, he can look after himself. He’s been taking the train home by himself for a while now – except. Except that’s totally not true because until recently, they always finished training together with other Juniors and could go home with friends.   


Tamamori’s eyes are puffy and red, and when he actually does make it of the bench only to crash roughly onto the floor, something sounding a lot like a sniffle comes from his direction. Before Miyata can even reconsider his decision, he’s already next to the other boy and pulling him back up on his feet. Tamamori looks surprised, to say the least, and maybe a little bit scared.    


It kind of breaks Miyata’s heart.   


“Come on, we’ll miss the train if we don’t hurry,” he says with the most brilliant smile he can manage (even his cheeks hurt). As far as he knows they don’t even live in the same direction and have never gone home together before, so saying it like it’s the most natural thing in the world is a little bit awkward. Of course, it’s also a stupid idea. One of them will have to make a big detour to accompany the other.   


He can only hope that Tamamori won’t point that out right that moment, because Fujigaya has just turned to look at them and is probably looking for another excuse to yell at them. Out of the corner of his eyes he can see Tamamori freeze when he follows Miyata’s direct line of sight and big watery eyes look like they’re about to start spilling tears again in the next few seconds.   


That’s when Miyata squeezes Tamamori’s hand, adjusting his grip a little so he can take the smaller hand in his and more easily tug the other boy after him. “Time to go, time to go,” he quietly sing-songs, more to calm himself down than anything else.   


He only darts a quick look around the room as he opens the door to leave, but there’s no one he can say good-bye to. Fujigaya has turned to the mirror to glare at his hair instead of his kouhai, Senga is a sobbing mess on the couch and Nikaido one step away from having an outright shouting match with Yokoo right in front (and probably because of) him and Kitayama has apparently passed out on the floor. With a sigh, he leads Tamamori out and as soon as the door falls shut behind them, his nerves catch up with him and he drops the hand in his.    


“Roller skating is hard, huh? I really thought it’d be fun when I first heard about it. Nobody told me that you spent more time trying to get up from the ground again than actually _skating_. Weeell. Maybe we’ll get better over time. Or, you guys will get better and I’ll just try not to trip you up too much.” He laughs, because somehow, he can picture that happening. “You’ll probably get the hang of it in a couple of weeks. Imagine how cool you’ll look! Whooshing by the other Juniors when we’re on stage – everyone will be amazed, for sure.”   


There’s no response when Miyata takes a deep breath and somehow, he can’t bear the silence right now. He also feels like he’s about to just keel over and curl up on the ground and never get up again. Tamamori must hate this. Having a random guy drag him outside (it’s not like they knew each other all that well from before), claim that they should go home together and then just babble at him non-stop. Miyata’s steps falter and he sighs quietly. He can barely move his feet anymore. His knee has started throbbing more and more as well from where he fell onto it earlier. Every step he takes makes him wince. He should just turn around and head straight home after all. Apologize and leave Tamamori to his own devices, he’d probably be happier that way as well.   


He stops and stares at the ground. Behind him, the second pair of steps also comes to a halt. “I’m sor-“   


“The station’s only two more streets from here,” Tamamori says – almost whispers and for a moment, Miyata is completely confused. Then, Tamamori slides his palm against Miyata’s and links their fingers like they’ve done this a thousand times already and shyly smiles at the older boy.   


When they start walking again, neither of them is talking. Their hands remain linked between them the entire way and train ride, though, and when Tamamori’s mother figures out that her son somehow kidnapped his new friend to come home with him, she calls Miyata’s mother and rolls out a futon for him next to Tamamori’s.    


Not much later, when they’re comparing bruises and scratches and Tamamori starts naming Miyata’s, Miyata has decided that the detour was totally worth it (and that he looks forward to doing it every day in the future). Also…   


He really, really likes the smiling Tamamori.


End file.
